Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 135536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
My glare alone called bull.
But since he refused to catch my gaze, I said, “You and I both know that children are a vanity project, not an investment. It is a knee-jerk reaction of civilization to preserve itself. There’s something bigger that’s keeping you from having children, and it’s not discomfort. You’re in a financial position to rear offspring without ever having to deal with them.”
A flicker of interest zinged through his eyes. “You’re not a complete idiot, are you?” I folded my arms, tilting a brow up. “Well, you happen to be right. There is a bigger agenda behind all this. I don’t want to have children because I want to cut the Costa dynasty off.”
“I thought you and Bruce are fighting over Costa Industries.”
“We are.”
“Why do you need to inherit this company if you’re not going to pass it down to your hypothetical spawn?”
“You do the math, Shortbread.”
It took me less than a second to figure it out.
So, he could ruin it. Run it to the ground. Destroy it like he did everything else his cold hands touched.
Such a Romeo thing to crave destruction.
From one family dinner, I’d gathered that Senior cared about one thing and one thing only—Costa Industries.
To kill his only love would be a cruel blow before he perished.
An act of pure vengeance.
The reason behind Romeo’s hatred taunted me. I wasn’t naïve enough to think he’d actually confide in me.
Nonetheless, an idea sprouted in my head.
Romeo didn’t want children. I didn’t want him in my vicinity. What would he do if I fell pregnant?
Would he divorce me or send me back to Chapel Falls with my dignity and wedding ring intact?
The plan wasn’t completely ideal.
For one thing, it hurt to think my child wouldn’t have a father figure in Romeo. But I refused to abandon my dream of becoming a mother.
Anyway, this hypothetical kid of mine would have the entire Townsend family at their disposal. Sans Daddy, who was officially stripped from grandfather duties for being a complete wuss.
It was pointless to tell Romeo about my plan for us.
So, I sipped my champagne. “Fine.”
His eyes narrowed. “Do you take me for a fool? You would never give up so easily.”
“Sorry, hubs, but your DNA doesn’t exactly scream hot commodity.”
“You would reproduce with a Trader Joe’s organic bag if you truly wanted a kid.”
“Would you like me to get down on my knees and beg you?”
“Yes, but not for a baby.”
Laughing hollowly, because there was nothing funny about our situation, I pointed out, “You’re not wrong. Children are too time-consuming and exhausting for a lazy, messy girl like me. We can have sex without getting pregnant, you know.”
“Thank you for the astonishing piece of news.” His eyes smoldered as he cut through his dish with the precision of a neurosurgeon. “But it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
Well, safe was the last thing we’d be. I’d kill his plans by getting pregnant—giving him the heir he never wanted—and free myself from his talons.
His fork hovered before his lips. “Enjoying your dish?”
“Almost as much as the company,” I cooed.
For the rest of dinner, we pretended to be a normal couple.
“I’ve never met a man so eager to lose all of his teeth.”
At Romeo’s mutter, I peered up from Frankie’s text.
My heart nose-dived to my gut.
Madison sat on the hallway carpet, his back pressed against our door. The bluish light from his phone shimmied across his forehead.
As soon as he spotted us, he stood, painting remorse on his disheveled face.
His motive clicked with the force of thunder. Madison and Romeo had begun a calculated game. I was the objective—the ball—they kicked back and forth.
And suddenly, the plan I’d hatched with Madison seemed like a monumentally stupid idea.
One I would no longer proceed with, seeing as my co-conspirator had the survival instincts of a drunk moth.
“Dallas.” He’d never been so eager to see me in all the time we’d known each other. “We need to talk. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
I slowed.
For once, Romeo was right. Madison was begging to be killed.
“You lost me at the thinking part. Your measly intelligence merely helps you function.” Romeo strode down the hall, yanked Madison by his collar, and hurled him against our door. His voice, as always, exuded calmness. “What do you think you’re doing, Licht?”
Madison flailed like an unearthed worm. “Getting back what’s mine.”
I almost snorted. What a cliché.
“Why didn’t you say so?” Romeo released him, yielded a blank check from his wallet, and slapped it onto Madison’s chest. “Here.”
It cartwheeled to Madison’s loafers.
“What’s that?”
“The settlement I’ll be paying you after you sue me for breaking your nose.”
“You didn’t break my—”
Romeo planted his fist square in Madison’s face. Blood gushed out of my ex-fiancé’s nose. It dripped down his suit, coloring the carpet crimson.
He swayed, knocking into the wall.
All the air ripped from my lungs.